


Where Angels Fear To...Oh, Who Are We Kidding?...They Tread Where They Damn Well Please

by Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte



Series: Castielle!Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Female!Cas, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-14 02:05:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte/pseuds/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester and Castiel have been dancing around each other for years. It takes an archangel with the noblest (yeah, right) of intentions, to change all that. Damn, meddling angels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pie & Chick-Flick Moments...or How Dean Winchester Got To First Base With An Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they remain the property of their respective owners. I'm just borrowing them to play for a little bit. All the stories are done for fun, not profit.

 It’s Friday night and Dean is sitting in a corner booth, pretending that he’s actually still listening to his brother, Sam.  In all honesty, he stopped paying attention at least two beers ago.  Leaning back, he shuts his eyes, allowing his mind to wander.  Idly, he wonders what Cas is doing right now, and that’s a train of thought he really shouldn’t be riding. 

_Riding…oh, right, not following those thoughts._

“Can I get you boys another round?”

At the sound of the waitress’ voice, Dean opens his eyes and smiles, nodding slowly, “Sure, darlin’.  Sounds great.”  The snort of disproval from Sam makes him look up, brows raised. 

His brother is shaking his head and Dean can’t find it in himself to ask what his problem is.  He _knows_ that his brother thinks he’s flirting with the waitress to get in her pants, or as the case would have it, under her skirt.  Before Dean can say anything, the waitress is back with their beers.  Delicate fingertips brush against his; the smile on her lips a blatant invitation. 

Smiling thanks, he picks up the bottle and takes a drink.  As she leaves them alone again, Sam picks up the conversation as if the interruption had never happened.  Absently scratching his thumbnail along the beer bottle label, Dean nods to whatever his brother is saying, only half-listening.

It’s barely been a day since they cleared out a nest of vampires on the outskirts of a small Texas town.  Dean was expecting some downtime, but lately all his brother wants to do is work, jumping from one case to another.  The brothers barely get a good night’s sleep before Sam is mapping out their next move; it’s exhausting and in all fairness, starting to grate on Dean’s nerves.

When he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, Dean belatedly realizes that his brother has stopped talking.  Their eyes meet and for nearly a minute, neither of them speaks.  Sam finally breaks the silence, “You’re not even listening to me, are you?”

“Sammy, it’s just…give it a rest, man.” 

Dean’s rewarded with one of Sam’s trademark bitch-faces and he struggles to keep his laughter at bay.  His brother sighs, shutting the laptop without another word.  Dean grins, because maybe he’ll get a Friday night off for once.  He scans the other patrons in the bar.  It’s not an accident that the location of their booth allows the brothers an unobstructed view of the entire bar while keeping them relatively hidden.  The bar is dimly lit and Dean can barely make out the faces of the other customers, but it’s not like he’s watching for anyone in particular.  His hunter instincts simply force him to seek out any potential threats.  Everyone in the establishment seems harmless enough, inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. 

His survey of the room ends with the college girls dancing by the jukebox; the two blondes gyrating against each other in a manner intended to get the attention of the men in the bar.  Dean is surprised that the rather indecent amount of skin they have on display is having no effect on him.  He seriously contemplates heading back to the motel for some Casa Erotica and li’l bit of manual gratification.  That is, until the pretty brunette enters the bar. 

Dean watches her as she moves past a number of tables without so much as noticing the men staring at her.  She’s oblivious to the amount of attention she’s garnished, her gaze darting around the bar as if she’s searching for someone.  The elder Winchester takes in the view, lifting the beer bottle as he does.  Her face is barely visible behind the curtain of her dark hair, the windswept curls cascading down her back.  The fall of hair stops just shy of the small of her back.  She’s wearing a black pencil skirt and a white button-down blouse, black heels held in her left hand as she turns, slowly scanning the customers. 

With her back to them, Dean takes in the swell of her hips and ass, his breath hitching when she turns to catch him staring.  He watches her eyes widen and Dean’s sure he’s in for it as she rushes over to their booth.  Sam startles when she gets to the table, words spilling out of her pouting lips in a rush, “Dean!  I’m so glad I found you!  You have to help me!”

“Dean?” Sam looks at him questioningly, obviously wondering who she is. 

Dean shrugs, because he’s never seen her before.  He’s _sure_ of it, but there _is_ something oddly familiar about her.  Her small fist clutches at his shirt and she leans in towards him, her scent enveloping him.  Her brows furrow, lips twisting nervously.  She tugs on his shirt, her breath hitching as she speaks, voice breaking, “Dean, please!  Tell me you remember!”

Without warning, the nearly six beers swimming in his blood speak on his behalf, “Baby, come back to my motel room and you can help me remember.”

Sam makes a choked sound and the stunning woman takes a step back, fingers loosening their grip on him.  Surprisingly, she nods, “Yes, this should not be done here. Come, we must go.  Quickly!”  Her hand fists in the fabric of his shirt once more and tugs him forward.  Dean exits the booth and drops some cash on the table, grinning at the stunned appearance on his brother’s face.

“Lead the way, baby.”

They take a handful of steps and she stops, peering around him towards the booth he just vacated, “Is Sam not coming?” 

It’s Dean’s turn to make a strangled noise, because _no_ , this is _not_ something he’s _ever_ shared with his brother.  He’s not about to start now, no matter how cute this woman is.  Her head tilts, exquisite blue eyes searching his and suddenly recognition hits him square in the face, “CAS?!”

His brother’s startled exclamation barely registers; Dean is too busy taking in the sight of his angel in a female vessel.  It takes all his willpower to not ogle the way she fills out the blouse.  His arousal flares and before he can stop her, female Cas is pressed against him gratefully, “Thank the Heavens!  You do remember!  I thought he’d erased me from your mind completely.”

“Cas, baby...”

_Baby?  Where the hell did that come from?!_

Dean glances down at where Cas is pressing his -wait, her!- forehead to his shoulder and on instinct, he brings a hand up to cup behind his -fuck, her!- head.  Cas makes a small noise in her -holy crap!- throat and Dean quietly soothes him -her, dammit!- with nonsense words and looks to his brother for help. 

“Cas?”  Sam has moved closer and is blatantly eyeing her, fingertips reaching out to brush over the waterfall of dark hair.  Something inside Dean twists and without thinking, he turns to guide Cas’ female vessel toward the door and away from his leering brother.

“Come on, Cas, let’s get you back to the motel and you can explain what the hell happened.”  Dean clears his throat and points down at the tiny bare feet, “You gonna put your shoes on?”

A small, frustrated sound escapes her and she finally speaks, voice almost too soft to hear, “I can’t walk in the shoes, Dean.  I tried…and failed, see?”  She’s bent down to raise the hem of her skirt and reveals her scraped and bloody knees.

“All right, that’s it,” Dean mutters, bending to hook his right arm behind Cas’ knees, scooping the angel up against his chest.  Oblivious to the stares of the other patrons, the hunter heads outside.  Moving quickly through the parking lot, he stops next to the Impala, setting Cas on the hood gently. 

The voice is low, but clear, “I could have walked to the car, Dean.  There was no need for you to carry me like a child.”

Dean pauses in unlocking the car and smiles, shrugging, “Maybe I wanted to carry you for once?”  The answering tilt of her head is all Cas and Dean can’t help but tease, “you did raise me from hell, the least I can do is carry you to the car.  Wouldn’t want you to cut up those pretty little feet.”

At his statement, Cas straightens the vessel’s legs and looks down at the feet in question, twisting them first one way, then the other.  The question is innocent, and _oh so Cas_ , “They are pretty?” 

Dean laughs and opens the car door, coming to stand next to the angel.  He sees Sam emerging from the bar and whispers, “It’s a figure of speech, Cas.  Now, let’s get you in the car before Sasquatch calls shotgun.”  He’s surprised with how easily the angel fits in his arms, the female vessel’s head resting on his shoulder.  He’s not sure, but Dean thinks he hears a soft sigh escape her -him, her, oh for fucks sake!- as he sets her onto the front seat. 

Cas speaks softly, “Thank you, Dean.”  Lips dangerously close to his, he can’t help but notice when the tip of Cas’ tongue emerges to lick the pouting lips of the new vessel.  The sight shoots a shaft of heat straight to his dick and in his haste to pull away, the back of his head impacts on the doorframe.

Sam’s laughter causes Dean’s jaw to tighten, gazing back to where Cas is ensconced in the car.  He has no idea why, but embarrassment unfurls in his belly, even before Sam taunts him, “What?  Did the pretty girl scare you?”

Dean slams the car door, muttering under his breath, “Shut it, or you can walk back to the room.  In fact, you know what, why don’t you do just that?  Walk, bitch!”  He doesn’t wait for his brother’s answer; simply gets into the car and starts the engine. 

And he would have left him there, if Cas hadn’t spoken up in his defense, “Dean…we need him.” 

The feel of those slender fingers on the back of his hand nearly makes him suck in a harsh breath, warmth pooling in his groin once more.  Sam knocks on the driver’s side window and when Dean turns towards him, there’s a smirk on his lips.  It’s as if his brother can read his mind.  The arched eyebrow only cements the suspicion.  Reaching back to unlock the door, Dean grumbles, “I still think he should walk.”

Sam leans over the front seat and reaches for Cas’ seatbelt, tugging it around the slender form.  His brother’s fingers brush the underside of one of the vessel’s breasts as he clicks the belt in place.  The soft murmur of, “Buckle up, beautiful,” makes Dean see red and before he can curb the impulse, he’s twisting in his seat to forcibly push his sibling into the back seat.

The sound of Sam’s laughter is annoying as hell and Dean tries to ignore him as he puts the car in gear, eagerly pulling out of the parking lot.  Out of the corner of his eye, Dean can see Cas’ hand curled protectively around the breast Sam briefly touched.  He risks a glance at the angel at the stoplight and asks softly, “You ok?”

The angel turns towards him and shrugs, an entirely too human gesture, “I believe so.  Why do you ask?”  Hands now in her lap, Dean has the sudden urge to reach across the seat to wrap his own hand around them.  He doesn’t; simply keeps driving in silence, gripping the steering wheel almost painfully and luckily the rest of the drive back to the room passes in relative silence.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~::~:~:~:~:~

 Twenty minutes later, Dean is crouched in front of Cas, cleaning the scrapes on the new vessel’s knees.  It had taken all his willpower keep from pushing the skirt all the way up those shapely thighs, but somehow, he’d managed to resist.  Even now, with that small foot resting on his thigh as he works, Dean is finding it hard to concentrate.

“You do not need to do this, Dean.” 

As if to prove a point, Cas brushes newly delicate fingers over the scrapes and in the next second, the skin is flawless once more.  Dean huffs a laugh, head shaking slightly as he gently sets the angel’s foot onto the floor.  He stands up, moving to drop the gauze into the nearby trashcan.  The hunter rubs both hands on the front of his jeans and shrugs, simply because he can’t think of anything to say.

“He just needed an excuse to touch your shiny new vessel, Cas.  Isn’t that right, Dean?”  The senior Winchester scowls in response, not caring that he’s only confirming Sam’s thoughts.

Cas tilts her head in confusion and asks innocently, “Why would he need an excuse to touch my ‘shiny new vessel,’ Sam?”

His brother laughs, tugging his t-shirt up over his head.  If Dean didn’t know better, he’d swear Sam did it on purpose.  Castiel is staring at all that newly exposed skin with a light blush suffusing her cheekbones.  In that moment, Dean hates his brother and his fucking perfectly chiseled abs and pecs.  Sam heads to the bathroom, calling back before closing the door, “Ask him, Cassandra.”

The sound of his brother’s laughter can be heard through the door and Dean’s jaw clenches tightly.  His hands fist and he attempts to relax; all too focused on his breathing that he doesn’t notice Cas moving closer until there’s a small hand atop one of his, fingers urging the fist to relax. 

Gentle fingers rub over the tops of his knuckles, “Dean?  Are you unwell?”  The naive question surprises a laugh out of him and on a whim, he allows his thumb to rub a small circle on the top of Cas’ hand, tracing the faint blue veins barely visible under the skin.  Lifting his head to meet her stare, he’s once again struck by how exquisite the new vessel is.

“I’m fine, Cas.  Just…” at a loss, his other hand lifts to trace a fingertip down the curve of her cheek.  “It’s just strange seeing you like this.”

“Because I appear female?”  At Dean’s nod, Cas growls in frustration, the sound bizarre coming from a woman.  “I am the same person.  The vessel is still Jimmy Novak, it has just been transformed into a more feminine package.”  The annoyance in her tone is rather beguiling and Dean finds himself smiling, despite his better judgment.

“How did that happen, by the way?  You still haven’t told us how you...” Dean gestures to the new form vaguely.  “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice vessel, but how?”

Cas’ nose scrunches up cutely and mutters, “Gabriel happened.”

“What exactly did he do, Cas?” 

Dean finds it hard to not react when Cas’ face twists up into a moue of displeasure as she paces the motel room.  “He accused me of being obtuse and assured me that this form would help ‘grease the wheels of progress’ without fail.”  Another frustrated exhalation and the angel flops face-up onto the bed, Dean’s bed to be exact.  “It is very strange, Dean.”

Moving around to the other side of the bed, Dean settles against the headboard, one hand coming up to rub at his eyelids, “What is, Cas?”

The mattress shifts and when Dean lowers his hand, he’s met with those impossibly blue eyes.  It takes all his resolve to not peek down Cas’ blouse as she crouches next to him on her hands and knees.  The black skirt has inched up further, exposing even more of pale skin and Dean isn’t looking; really he isn’t.  This is Cas for crying out loud, a freakin’ Angel of the Lord!

“It is strange moving in these clothes.  They are constricting in ways that the male form’s are not.”  Those dainty little fingers are plucking at the front of the blouse, unwittingly loosening two buttons.  The glimpse of cleavage is enough to make Dean bite back a groan and he’s surprised when Cas pulls the blouse away from her chest to investigate under the material, as if only just noticing her breasts.  “Dean?  Jimmy does not have these.”

Dean clears his throat, “No, Cas, Jimmy doesn’t have tits.”

The new body parts apparently fascinate the angel, because she’s now bouncing gently on the bed, causing said body parts to move in a tantalizing fashion.  Sam emerges from the bathroom, hair wet from his shower and Cas calls out, “Sam!  Guess what?”  At his brother’s questioning look, Cas tells him proudly, “I have tits!”

“I noticed.  Wanna show them to me?”

Cas eases to her feet and works at pulling the blouse out of the skirt’s waistband, answering naively, “Sure.”

Dean is off the bed and standing in front of the angel before she can tug the blouse free.  “No, no, no, Cas.  You don’t go around showing your goodies to just anyone.  Come here,” gripping her elbow, Dean guides Cas into the bathroom.  “Let me get you something else to wear.  I’ll be right back.”

Sam snickers under his breath, eyes crinkling in the corners.  Dean rummages through his duffle bag and studiously ignores him.  He’s in the process of pulling a pair of sweatpants out of his bag when Sam speaks, “Play your cards right, jerk, and you still might get lucky tonight.”

Dean doesn’t respond, simply pulls two shirts out of his bag and crosses to the bathroom.  He’s in the process of lifting his hand to knock when Cas’ muffled voice calls out, _“Dean, I require some assistance!”_

Without thinking, he opens the door and enters the small room, totally unprepared for the scene that greets him.  Cas is spinning in a small circle, arms up above her head, tangled in the blouse now halfway stripped from her torso.  There’s a fair amount of naked skin on display, the blouse barely covering the bottom edge of the bra underneath.  Shutting the door behind him, Dean drops the clothes to catch the stumbling angel. 

“Cas! Hold still!”  Instantly, she’s motionless.  Dean is gentle as he tugs the blouse back down, fingers working the buttons free as he explains, “You have to unbutton it first, before you take it off.  See?”  The white material is now hanging open, offering the hunter an unfettered view of lace covered breasts.  Cas shrugs the blouse off and Dean turns away, giving her some privacy.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?”  If his voice is strangled it’s because that’s how Dean feels: strangled by his lust.  It seems like the more he fights to remember that this is Cas, the more he’s reminded that this is _female_ Cas and female Cas is everything male Cas _isn’t_.  He braces both forearms on the bathroom door, unable to face the angel.

“You seem…out of sorts.  Is it because you do not like my new form?  If it makes you feel any better, I find the new form…disconcerting as well.”

A bark of laughter lifts his shoulders and Dean turns, leaning them against the door, “If anything, Cas, I like your new form a little too much.”  The admission out in the open, he allows himself to indulge in the view. 

Cas is standing there; head tilted slightly, face as calm as ever.  Dean watches her take a step forward and lifts a hand to stop her, but she keeps coming, stopping only when her naked belly is against his palm.  He feels his mouth go dry as she speaks, “You can touch me, Dean.  I won’t smite you.”

Dean snorts, unsure if she’s kidding or not.  He notes her lips are curled in a tiny smile, “Well check you out…Gabriel gave you a nice curvy package _and_ a sense of humor.”

At the mention of her brother, Cas scowls and turns away, arms crossing over her chest.  “He’s an impetuous little…”

Pushing off the wall, Dean comes up behind her; hands resting on her shoulders, thumbs absently massaging the muscles.  “Hey, we’ll fix this.  All we need to figure out is what he wanted you to accomplish.”  At her puzzled look, he explains, “Gabriel is all for people ‘playing the roles’ they were meant to.  So all we need to do is figure out what exactly he thinks you’re supposed to be doing.”

“You make it sound so simple, Dean.”  If Cas leans back into his chest, Dean doesn’t notice.  Really, he doesn’t.

Shrugging slightly, Dean turns to retrieve the clothing he dropped by the door.  He shakes out the two shirts and sweatpants, setting them on the counter next to Cas. “I have to believe it’s that simple, Cas.  The alternative is unacceptable.  Now, why don’t you…change and we can start trying to figure out what your darling brother wants?” 

Nodding slightly, Castiel reaches up for the waistband of the skirt as if to ease it off her hips, the fabric not moving, “It seems this vessel’s attire is much smaller than I’m used to.”

Dean, halfway out the door, turns and gestures behind her, “You have to unzip it, Cas.”  At her bewilderment, he explains further, “Women’s skirts have zippers just like men’s pants do, they just put them in a different place.  Allow me?”  Stopping just shy of her personal space, he points at the zipper along the back of the skirt. 

Cas makes an effort to see what Dean is pointing at, speaking as she does, “Of course, Dean.  I would not have asked for help if I did not intend to allow it.”  Smiling at the sheer Cas-ness of the answer, Dean unzips the skirt.  He tries valiantly to keep his hands to himself as the fabric loosens, fingers holding it in place. 

Dean clears his throat, “Ok, well…if you’ll grab hold of the skirt, I can uh, leave so you can change.  Once you let it go, it should just slide off and you can put the sweat pants on.  There are two shirts; the black one pulls on over your head and the brown one buttons up just like your white one.”  The instant Cas takes hold of the skirt’s waistband Dean’s all but running out of the bathroom and into the room beyond. 

Sam is sitting at the small table, flipping through a book.  He sets it aside with a sigh and is in the process of pulling another one closer when he asks, “So did Cas tell you what did that to him?”

“Gabriel.”

His brother groans, hand palming over his face as he sits back in his chair, “Well, in that case, we won’t solve this with research.  It’s probably just his sick sense of humor.”

Dean agrees; he’s about to comment, when the bathroom door opens.  If he’d thought seeing the angel in nothing but a lace bra and skirt was torture, the display that greets him quickly puts it to shame.  Cas is standing in the open doorway wearing only the black t-shirt, the hem of it barely reaching the top of her thighs.  Sam whistles under his breath and Dean glares at him warningly, causing his brother to raise his hands in surrender.

“Cas, is there a reason you’re not wearing the sweatpants?”

Castiel sighs and mutters under her breath, “They don’t fit, Dean.  They are too big.”

He brushes past her to retrieve the pants, “Well, yea, Cas…your new vessel is a lot smaller than the usual one, but there’s a drawstring.  See?”  Dean holds the waistband up for her to see and asks gently, “You want me to help you?” 

At her nod, he crouches down, holding them out for her to step into.  He studiously avoids the temptation to check whether or not Cas has stripped all the ‘constricting’ female clothes off.  It’s distracting enough feeling her hands on his shoulders as he slowly pulls the sweatpants up her well-formed legs.  His traitorous fingers brush over her hipbones and yep; she stripped the panties off as well.  Dean pulls the drawstring tight and fastens it, taking a step back with a tight smile. 

“Thank you, Dean.”

The hunter shoves both hands in his jean pockets, moving to his bed, hoping to disguise his arousal.  Leave it to his brother to choose that exact moment to speak, “That wasn’t so _hard_ , was it, Dean?”

“Shut up, Sam!”  The words are hissed.  Dean grabs his jacket from the chair, tugging it on as he heads for the door, “I’ll be back.”

He crosses the parking lot and huffs a laugh when he finds Cas standing next to the Impala, waiting patiently, “No fair using angel mojo when I attempt to storm out, Cas.”

“Is that not one of the perks of being an angel, Dean?”  There’s that little half-smile again as she speaks.  Next time he sees him, Dean’s thanking Gabriel.  He really likes female Cas; she’s much more…human than the usual one.  Her voice is quiet when she asks, “Why were you attempting to ‘storm out?’”

Dean presses his lips together in a tight line, unwilling to share the reason for his hasty departure.  He really should have known he wouldn’t get far (profound bond and all that).  True to form, regardless of the current one, Cas watches him silently; head cocked in that all too familiar pose.  The intensity of the stare nearly makes him squirm, if he didn’t know this particular angel so well.  “Sam’s just been getting on my nerves lately, Cas.  That’s all.”

She nods, “I could ‘angel mojo’ him to sleep if you wish.”  The grin she gives him is genuine and if he’s not mistaken, Dean could have sworn the angel wiggled her eyebrows at him.  Castiel moves to stand in front of him, the new addition of breasts making the usual space between them almost nonexistent.  “It would give us time to talk in private…if that is what you wish.”

The offer is so tempting, if only to explore this fascination with Castiel’s new body.  _Talking is so not what I want to do in private…I want to bend you over the hood of this car and find out just how soft you are on the inside._ A split-second passes and Cas’ eyes widen slightly.  Dean remembers just how connected the two of them are.  “No fair, Cas!  You’re not allowed to root around in my brain like that!  Not without permission.”

“I didn’t ‘root around’ in your head, Dean.  You are broadcasting your…lust.”  The last word is said in such a way that it causes him to swallow audibly.  Cas’ fingers wrap around his wrist, lifting his hand up, resting it between her breasts and just how erotic is it that she’s wearing only his clothes?  Dean’s never had much of a reaction seeing women in his shirts, but with Cas…it has him harder than he can ever remember being.  Both her hands cover his one and she whispers, “This vessel wants you to touch it, Dean.  It wants it very much.”

“Don’t say things like that to me, Castiel.  I’m trying very hard to-“

“I know, Dean…I can feel just how much you’re struggling to keep from using this vessel to satiate your desire.”

Dean laughs, pulling Cas against his chest, wrapping both arms around her, “Only you would make sex sound so clinical.”

Dean is in no way prepared for what she says next, “Have it your way, Dean.  I know very well just how much you want to fuck this ‘shiny new vessel.’”  His breathing stutters and before he can answer her, Cas is speaking again, “If I’m not mistaken, you’re eager to bend me over the hood of the car and see for yourself just how soft I am inside.”

A sharp intake of breath and Dean dips his head, slanting his lips over hers, effectively shutting her up before she can speak again.  Cas makes a small noise in the back of her throat and he deepens the kiss, tongue gliding along the seam of her lips.  His hands press into the small of her back, holding her against him.  Dean can feel the faint trembling of her body under the thin cotton of the shirt and is about to slide a hand underneath it when the sound of slow clapping fills the night air.

He takes a step back from Cas and sure enough, there’s Gabriel, wearing a self-satisfied smirk on his lips.  “I knew you two had it in you…well,” he leers at Cas, “in your case, not yet.”

Castiel is around Dean and stalking towards Gabriel, brandishing an Angel Blade before Dean even registers that she’s moved.  He rushes forward, wrapping an arm around her waist, lifting her up off the ground to stop her forward momentum, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Cas!  We need him!” 

The furious angel continues to struggle in his arms, bare feet kicking in Gabriel’s direction.  Dean almost drops her when the edge of the blade catches against side of his bicep.  Castiel’ nails are clawing at Dean’s forearm in an attempt to get free and the sounds emitting from her throat are akin to that of a growling cat, “Release me, Dean!  I have every right to-“

Gabriel laughs and takes a step back, “Oh, how menacing!”

“You’re _not helping_ , Gabriel!”  Dean glares at the archangel and then whispers in Cas’ ear, “I know you’re upset, Castiel, but if you kill him, you’ll be stuck this way.  Is that what you want?”  At his words, Cas stops struggling and sniffs angrily.  She doesn’t answer, simply settles back against his chest, silently sizing up her brother.

“Bravo, Winchester.  You seem to have the little lady in hand, a lot quicker than I imagined, honestly.  I didn’t give you enough credit.”  The smile he gives Dean is smug as he circles around them, “Do you like the package I put Cas in?  I can make her taller if you want?  Or perhaps, give her bigger…”

At this, Gabriel gestures obscenely in front of his chest.  Dean clenches his jaw painfully and is saved from responding when Cas hisses under her breath.  The string of Enochian is meaningless to Dean, but from Gabriel’s expression, he gathers it was probably a threat.  He tightens his arm around Cas and at the downward flick of the archangel’s eyes Dean grasps just where his forearm is (directly beneath Castiel’s breasts) and exactly how much of her skin (a lot) is visible. 

“Quit ogling her, Gabe.  She’s your sister!”

“She’s _technically_ my _brother_ , Dean, but I don’t view family the same way you do.”  Gabriel holds up a hand to silence him before continuing, “And I’m not ‘ogling’ dear Cassie, I’m simply admiring my work.  You have to admit, I did a remarkable job.”

Dean makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat and slowly relaxes his grip around Cas.  She turns to look at him over her shoulder and Dean forces a smile on his lips; sure that she’ll see right through it.

“Are you going to return Cas back to normal…or you gonna be an epic dick about the whole thing?” 

Gabriel has stopped circling them and grins.  It’s that dangerous fucking grin that means Dean’s probably not going to like what comes out of his mouth next, “All in good time, friends…all in good time.”  And just like that, Gabriel is gone once more.

“Son of a bitch!” 

~:~:~:~:~:~:~::~:~:~:~:~

“Does the pie help?”

Dean pauses, fork halfway to his mouth, “What?”

Cas sighs and gestures to the half eaten slice of cherry pie, “I asked if it helped.”  She’s sitting across from Dean, one dainty little foot tucked underneath her, appearing relaxed in a way that male Cas never really does.  “I’ve noticed you eat pie when you’re upset and well…”

Her voice trails off into silence and Dean shrugs speaking around the mouthful of pie, “I’m not sure it actually helps but it makes me feel better.”

“I see.”

She observes him silently as he takes another bite of pie and Dean notices she licks her lips when he does.  A thought occurs to him, “Do you want some?” 

Cas has never seemed concerned in food, (except for that whole Famine thing) so Dean hadn’t even bothered asking if she wanted anything when he’d given the waitress his order.  Now that he was paying attention, she seemed interested in the dessert in front of him.  Dean lifts the fork and offers it to her, “Here, try it.”

After a little coaxing, she sits forward slightly and opens her mouth for the bite of pie.  He pulls the fork back slowly as her lips close around it and clears his throat when she moans softly.  The movement of Cas’ throat as she swallows is exceedingly hypnotic and it takes Dean a bit to realize that she’s spoken, “That was most enjoyable.”

“Liked that did you?”  Dean chuckles and flags down the waitress.  He orders Cas a slice of apple pie a la mode, swatting at her fingertips when they sneak across the table to drag through the filling on his plate.  A small giggle escapes her as she pulls her hand back, sucking the tip of her index finger clean.  “Did you just giggle?”

Cas ponders the question, “I think so.  Is giggling bad?”  She appears genuinely concerned that she’s made a major faux pas.  The waitress reappears and Dean is spared from telling Cas that no, it’s not ‘bad’ but is in fact remarkably cute.  It is strangely satisfying to witness that first taste of apple pie: the way her eyelids flutter then shut, the small blissful smile, the way her tongue darts out to lick her lips and the tiny breath she takes, as if she needs to center herself before taking another bite.

“That good?”

The words are barely out of his mouth before she’s offering him a spoonful, “You must try this, Dean.  It is extremely pleasurable.  Much better than the one you are eating.”

Dean holds up a hand and tells her, “You eat it, I’ve had apple pie before.” 

When Cas honest to God pouts, he leans across the table and takes the spoonful into his mouth, moaning dramatically for her benefit.  The bridge of her nose wrinkles as she giggles, eyes alight with amusement.  Dean picks up his own fork and leans forward to appropriate another bite.  His efforts are thwarted when Cas playfully blocks his fork with her spoon.  He can’t help but laugh when she pulls the plate out of his reach to take another bite of her dessert.

Dean is still chuckling when the waitress wanders back to their table, “Anything else for the two lovebirds?”

Castiel stares at the waitress with a look of consternation.  Luckily she waits until the woman leaves to retrieve their check before leaning closer and whispering, “Why did that woman think we were birds?  We do not have feathers, Dean.”

“It’s an expre-“ 

The confused look on Cas’ face disappears and a mischievous little grin replaces it.  Dean cocks his head slightly and with a snort of laughter realizes the angel made a joke.  She’s grinning as she takes a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.  He shakes his head, once again amazed by just how different female Cas is. 

~:~:~:~:~:~:~::~:~:~:~:~

Dean comes out of the shower to find Cas sitting on his bed, back against the headboard, flipping through one of Sam’s books.  She looks up as he emerges from the steam-filled room, clad only in a pair of jeans, and her eyes widen slightly. 

“What, Cas?”

Castiel shakes her head and drops her gaze, dutifully avoiding his question.  Dean moves to his duffel and pulls out a clean t-shirt, tugging it on before coming to sit on the bed next to his angel.  His angel.  He really needs to stop thinking of Cas that way, especially in this form.  Looking like she does, it’s too easy to imagine her being his in other ways and doing so will only make the situation problematic when Gabriel returns Cas to his usual body.

“Where’d Sam go?”

The only response he gets is a brief shrug and Dean ducks his head to meet the angel’s eyes, his head nearly in her lap.  She gives him a brief smile and sets the book aside, “He just said he was heading out to give us time to talk.  Not sure what he thinks we have to talk about.”  From the way she fidgets under him, Dean knows that’s a lie.  Sam must have told Cas exactly what to talk about and she’s choosing to not discuss it.

Dean sits up and turns to face her, “I think I know what he wants us to talk about.”  He inches closer and leans into her personal space, his breath mingling with hers.

“You do?”  Cas’ voice lilts up at the end and her gaze is locked on his lips as he moves closer still.  Dean simply nods and moves to straddle her lap, hands coming up to cup her face gently.  She swallows nervously and whispers, “and what’s that, Dean?”

The hunter smiles and speaks with his lips a hairsbreadth away from hers, “This…between us.” 

Cas’ brows hitch up and she whimpers softly, “I don’t understand this new…uncertainty between us, Dean.  It’s almost as if…”

Dean brushes his lips over hers, “As if what, Cas?”  The angel leans forward, attempting to follow his lips with her own when he pulls back slightly.

“It’s as if something is missing.”  Cas’ hands reach up to fist in his t-shirt and Dean dips his head, covering her lips with his own.  At the feel of her hands tightening in the material of his shirt, Dean groans.  Cas’ lips part and Dean takes advantage, his tongue sliding along her teeth; the instant he does, she pulls back with a startled gasp, one hand coming up to cover her mouth.

Dean pulls back slowly, his hands dropping from Cas’ face to his lap, “Sorry…I um…I got carried away.  Won’t happen again.”  With that, the hunter moves off the bed and across the room to the small kitchenette.  He grabs a glass and fills it at the sink, draining the contents almost instantly.

“What if I want it to happen again, Dean?”  Her voice is _directly_ behind him.  Fucking angel stealth. 

He takes a deep breath and shakes his head, “Don’t say that to me, Cas, please.”  Dean’s a little surprised with how steady his voice sounds, when his insides are churning with nervous energy.

“Why?”

Dean stiffens as she places both her hands flat on his back, “Just don’t, Cas…please.  It will make things too…complicated when Gabriel changes you back.”  He turns to face her, leaning against the counter behind him.  As the gravity of his words hit Cas, she clasps her hands together and takes a step back, eyes wide.

He watches as her face morphs from surprise, to confusion, before finally settling in a mask of resignation.  She nods once and whispers almost sadly, “Because I will be in a male vessel.”  The smile Cas gives him is pained and before Dean can explain his statement, the angel is gone in a flutter of wings.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~::~:~:~:~:~

 “I don’t KNOW where she went!”  Dean glares at his brother from across the room and rolls his eyes when Sam just stares at him impassively, “Look, this is partly your fault, idiot!”

“ _My_ fault?!  How the hell do you figure that, genius?”

“Well, you’re the one that insisted we talk.  That’s what we were doing!”  Dean gestures towards the door in exasperation, “then she…left!”  Turning, he advances on his younger brother, voice getting louder with each word until he’s all but shouting in Sam’s face, “If you hadn’t insisted we have a freakin’ chick flick confessional then none of this would have happened!”

“Confessional?”  Sam gives him a worried look and asks quietly, “What did you say, Dean?”

“I,” Dean takes a breath and answers in a rush, “I didn’t say anything.  I came out of the shower and she was alone in here; said you’d mentioned giving us ‘time to talk.’”  At his brother’s expectant look, Dean hesitates before admitting, “I kissed her…okay!?  I don’t know what came over me.  She was just…”

“Soo…you kissed her and she disappeared?  That’s all?”  Sam’s voice is doubtful and Dean grimaces at the memory of what he’d said.  At his reaction, his brother presses, “Just tell me what you said, Dean.”

 _Damn his brother and all this sentimental bullshit!_   He rubs both hands over his face, pacing around the room, hesitant to tell Sam anything else.  “No.  I…well, I forgot who she was for a second, you know?  I got carried away and apologized, then said it would make things hard when Gabriel turned her back…that’s when she left.”

Sam stalks across the room and shoves his shoulder, muttering acidly, “You and your stupid, homophobic baggage!  Fucking moron!  Don’t you realize just how much that angel loves you?”

Dean scoffs, “Does not!”

His brother tosses his hands up, “Cas adores you, idiot!  Everyone sees it!  Everyone, except YOU!  That’s why Gabriel did what he did…he knows Cas loves you…knew your macho ego would _never_ let you admit your feelings.  So Gabriel did the next best thing: he put Cas in a woman’s body and figured your dick would take over.”

His brother stops talking and stares at him, one brow lifted.  Dean returns his gaze silently and can find nothing to say in response.  Did he love Cas?  If Dean allowed himself to admit it, he did have feelings for the angel, but love?  Friendship, yes; gratitude, most definitely; affection, yea, but could he call that love? 

“Just think of how much you enjoy his company, how much you love making him laugh or smile, how much you love teaching him new ‘human’ things, how much you miss him when he isn’t around, how much you worry…think of all of that and then tell me it’s not love.”

Dean looks up at his brother and sighs, crossing his arms across his chest, “I hate you, you know.”

“I’m right, aren’t I?” 

Sam has enough decency to not gloat when Dean nods, “Yeah…you’re right, but it’s not like it matters now anyway.  She’s gone, prolly thinkin’ of ways to smite my dumb ass.”

“Oh…I’m sure Cas could think of a few things to do to your ass that don’t involve smiting.”

“DUDE!” 

~:~:~:~:~:~:~::~:~:~:~:~

 The tears had started moments after leaving the motel room and Cas doesn’t know how to stop them.  Crying is a new experience for the angel and it’s not a pleasant one.  There’s a soft flutter of wings and Gabriel is suddenly sitting beside her, “Hey, beautiful, what happened?”

“As if you didn’t know!”  Cas is surprised when the archangel drops a hand around her shoulders; shrugging it off, she shoves at him and mutters, “I should push you off this rooftop, you know,” the newly female angel sniffs delicately and mumbles, “Would serve you right.”

“Oh come on, Cassie!”  Gabriel makes a show of peeking over the edge of the motel roof and shrugs, “You know just as well as I do that it won’t kill me.”

Cas nods and deadpans, “Yeah, but it would make me feel better.  Especially since I have no way of procuring another slice of apple pie.”

The archangel laughs and pulls her in for a hug, “Oh!  Snarky little thing aren’t you?”  Cas struggles in his embrace and finally jabs him in the side with an elbow, pulling away.  “So tell me…just what did Dean-o do to make you cry?  Just gimme the word, doll-face, and I’ll get my smite on.”

Cas shakes her head, “Leave him alone, Gabriel.”

“Aww…but Cassie, he made you cry.  It’s my God-given right as big brother to defend my little sister’s honor.”  Cas rolls her eyes at that, hand coming up to threateningly point a single finger at Gabriel.  “Oh alright, I won’t smite the bastard.”

“Just like that?”  Cas asks doubtfully, eyes narrowing, her voice laden with suspicion.

Gabriel smiles at the obvious distrust in her voice, “…if you tell me what happened.”

Cas sighs, allowing herself to be pulled into Gabriel’s embrace, “If you must know…he kissed me.” 

“I know that, Cassie.  I was there, remember?”  Gabriel holds her against his side, kissing her hair.  The gesture is surprisingly tender and Cas frowns, looking up at him curiously. 

Reaching up to wipe at her eyes, she says softly, “Not that time, Gabriel.”

“Winchester scored a second kiss?  Good for him and more importantly, good for you.”  Cas peeks up and sees Gabriel smiling at her, looking rather proud.  “So, is he a good kisser?”

Castiel snorts a tiny laugh and shrugs, “I wouldn’t know, Gabriel, I have no basis for comparison.”

“Trust me, if Dean Winchester is a good kisser, even you would know, Cassie.  Besides, with lips like those, I’m sure there’s a lot of things his mouth is good at.”  The elder angel smirks and Castiel glares disapprovingly, fully intending to ignore the blatant innuendo. 

Gabriel is not so easily deterred and within minutes of incessant badgering and crude sexual gestures, Castiel relents, “Enough!  Fine.  Tell me, how does one…know whether someone is a ‘good kisser’ or not?”

The smile Castiel is rewarded with is one of pure unmitigated joy, “Well, dear sister, it’s simple…how did you feel when he kissed you?”

Cas opens her mouth to answer and shuts it when no words form.  Brows furrowing slightly, she realizes has no idea how to describe the feelings from the second kiss.  Reaching out with two fingers, she presses them to Gabriel’s forehead.  Instead of explaining it, she sends the memory of that moment into her brother’s head.

A brief shudder passes through him at the touch, a blissful smile curling his lips as his eyes drift shut.  “Oh my, he IS a good kisser.  Why’d you stop him, doll-face?  He obviously wanted more than just that kiss,” Gabriel pauses to lick his lips before continuing under his breath, “a lot more.”

“I didn’t stop him.  I was simply…surprised…when he,” the younger angel pauses, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“When he tried for first base?”

Cas tilts her head and frowns, “I don’t understand that reference.”

Gabriel laughs, “Oh, Cassie, it’s so nice to know that at least some things never change.”  When the comment doesn’t garner whatever response he was apparently searching for, the archangel explains, “Some humans use the phrase ‘first base’ to refer to the act of kissing with tongue.”

“I was under the impression that ‘first base’ was a baseball term.”  Castiel’s question makes Gabriel smile indulgently. 

“It is.  They use the terms to signify the ‘steps’ towards sex.”  He shrugs and elaborates, “‘Second base’ is fondling, ‘third base’ is oral sex and well, I shouldn’t have to tell you what a ‘homerun’ is.”

Castiel looks away and shakes her head, having already deduced that the act of copulation would be the equivalent of scoring a homerun in baseball.  “Humans can be so crude.”

“Yes, well…that’s one of the reasons that loving them is so fun, Cassie.  When they love, they love completely and if you’re lucky enough to experience that…it’s worth all the pain.”  Gabriel’s voice has taken on a sad tinge and Castiel frowns slightly, slipping her hand in his, squeezing it lightly.  As if sensing the younger angel’s thoughts, Gabriel shakes himself.  It’s almost as if the angel is settling his feathers before asking, “So tell me, what happened that made you cry.  From your recollection of the kiss, that isn’t what made you cry.  The kiss itself had an entirely different effect.”

“GABRIEL!”  The now-female angel shoves him, hard, only succeeding in making the archangel laugh.  Cas scowls and bats at her brother’s arms when he tries to hug her.  “He…” Castiel stops to take a breath she doesn’t need and feels fresh tears well up in her eyes, “he doesn’t want _ME_ , Gabriel.  He only wants the vessel…the female one.”  A wry laugh escapes, “I don’t understand humankind's obsession with gender.  It shouldn’t make a difference what…”

Gabriel manages to finally pull Castiel in against his side, finishing her thought, “…the outside packaging is.  It’s the soul that matters.  I know.  Maybe someday the humans will catch on to the trend of seeing beneath the surface.  Until then-”

_“HEY!  CAS!  Is that you up there?”_

The sound of the elder Winchester’s voice makes both angels peer over the edge of the rooftop.  Dean is directly below them; head tilted back, hands cupped around his mouth.  Castiel bites back a giggle when Gabriel asks seriously, “You sure you don’t want me to smite him?”

“Behave, Gabriel, you’ve done enough.”  She lifts a warning finger at her brother and tries her best to look menacing.  Her brother affects an expression of innocence and holds up both hands to signify his acquiescence.

_“CASTIEL!  Don’t ignore me!”_

“What do you want, Dean?”  Castiel looks over the roof edge once more and quirks a brow impatiently, the gesture entirely too human.

_“Will you come down here, please?”_

“No, I am currently upset at you, Dean Winchester.”  Gabriel stifles a laugh and in a flurry of feathers, disappears.  Before Castiel can say anything else, the archangel has reappeared next to the first-born Winchester.  Without a word of warning, he presses two fingers to the hunter’s forehead.  A split-second later, the human is sitting next to Castiel on the edge of the roof and Gabriel is nowhere to be seen. 

The instant Dean realizes where he is, he panics, “Sonuva-“

Castiel reaches out and grabs his wrist, instantly calming him, “Relax, Dean.  I would never let you fall.” 

With a final wary glance over the rooftop, Dean turns to look at the angel, “You disappeared on me.”

“Was I wrong to assume that I could also ‘storm out’ when upset?”  The question is downright bitchy and before Dean can stop himself, he laughs.  Cas frowns in misunderstanding, “I’m pleased that my distress is serving as a source of enjoyment for you, human.”

“No, Cas.  It’s not that.  It’s just…you sounded so,” he pauses, at a loss for words.  “Human.  You sounded human.”  At the angel’s questioning look, he smiles, “and I don’t mean that as an insult.”

“Oh.”  Castiel is horrified when her cheeks flush, griping, “I don’t understand this vessel’s reactions to you, Dean.”

“I happen to like it when you blush, but hey, that’s me.  I’m a strange human man.”  He shrugs briefly and quotes, “‘enjoy the little things in life, for one day you'll look back and realize they were big things.’”

“Kurt Vonnegut.”

Dean laughs and nods, “Yea, I read.  Shocking, isn’t it?  A big dumb hunter like me reads.  It’s almost-“

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“I would really like to try ‘first base’ again.  It was quite pleasant.”

Dean turns to stare at Castiel incredulously, “How’d you learn about first base?”  He holds up a hand, “Don’t tell me…Gabriel?”  At her nod, he reaches out to tuck a lock of Cas’ hair behind her ear, “How about you zap us somewhere comfortable first?”

~:~:~:~:~:~:~::~:~:~:~:~

“Now what?”

Dean looks around and grins, “The backseat of the Impala?  That’s your ‘somewhere comfortable,’ Cas?”  The smile he gets from the angel is shy and Dean’s doing rather well at controlling himself, all things considered.  That is, until she bites her bottom lip.  Dean growls and leans forward, cupping Cas’ face in his left hand, “I’m a sucker for women who do that.”

Cas’ expression is one of genuine interest, “Do what, Dean?”

“The whole ‘lip biting’ thing you just did.  It makes all the blood in my body rush to my co-”

The angel darts forward and presses a tentative kiss to his lips and he smiles.  When she pulls back, he follows her onto her side of the backseat.  With a nervous flick of her tongue, Cas is leaning forward once more.  Dean’s eyes drift shut briefly at the feel of her breasts on his arm.  Her whimpered, “Dean…I want more.  Can I please have more kissing?”

Dean clears his throat, “Yeah, Cas…you can have more kissing.”  With that, he tilts her chin up and angles his lips over hers.  Cautiously, he traces the inside of her upper lip with his tongue and the angel pulls away with a giggle.  He tilts his head and sighs, “What?” 

“Nothing…it just…it felt strange.  I don’t know how to describe it.  Here, I’ll show you,” before Dean can pull back, Cas presses two fingers to the center of his forehead, giving him the memory.

“OH!”  Dean exclaims softly, “It tickled.  That’s what the sensation is called.  I was afraid it was something bad.”

“Tickling isn’t bad?”

Dean shakes his head, then corrects, “Well, it can be…if it’s done in excess.  Tickling is fun…for a little while.  It quickly passes from fun to annoying without warning.”  He ponders for a second and then asks, “Are you ticklish anywhere else, angel?”

Castiel opens her mouth, thinks, then shuts it again, shrugging, “I don’t know, but you are more than welcome to find out, _human_.”

The hunter’s mouth gapes open, “I wasn’t calling you ‘angel’ in a derogatory manner, Castiel.  It’s a term of endearment.”  With an exasperated breath, he mutters, “I thought I was being clever.”

“Dean?”  When he looks up questioningly, she practically purrs, “Shut up and kiss me.”  Her hand curls around the back of his neck and she pulls him closer, lips covering his clumsily.  Dean’s reminded of just how _not-human_ Cas is with the small movement.  The amount of strength in that one curl of her hand is enough to make him groan into the sloppy kiss.

He pulls back briefly to suggest softly, “Cas…slow down.  It’s not a race.  Here…just relax.”  She’s staring up at him, lips spit-slick and Dean presses a series of gentle closed-mouth kisses to her mouth, then urges, “Open your mouth, baby.”

Castiel instantly complies and Dean traces the small ‘o’ of her mouth with his tongue.  This time when she pulls back it’s with a blissful moan.  “Oh my…that was…I don’t know what that was, but it was most delightful.  I want more, Dean.”

Dean’s nose crinkles with laughter.  He takes Cas’ hand and folds all but two fingers in towards her palm.  “Show me?”  When Castiel presses them to his forehead, his head falls back with a grunt of pleasure, “Oh, holy fuck.”  The exclamation is uttered before he can stop it.

“ _Dean_.”

That one word is a warning and Dean opens his eyes reluctantly.  “Mmmm…sorry.  That was…wow.  That’s a perfectly normal reaction, Castiel.  Don’t worry.” 

She licks her lips and asks, “I rather enjoyed that sensation in my vessels breasts.”  Dean’s kiss had caused Castiel’s nipples to pucker and hearing her say it in a completely _Cas_ manner was so wrong, yet utterly _right_.

Gently he teases, “If you liked that, just wait ‘til we get to second base.”  At Castiel’s nervous giggle, he correctly surmises that Gabriel must have explained all the bases to her.  “Want more of first base before we move on?”

“Oh yes, please.” 

In an instant, Cas is on him, kissing with all the eagerness of a virgin.  Dean doesn’t even care that they’re still there an hour later, no closer to second base than they were when they started.


	2. Cotton Candy Kisses...or How Dean Winchester Scored A Double

“I don’t understand why we’re here, Dean,” the hunter looks up and quirks a brow, amazed at the whiny quality of Castiel’s voice.  When he turns to face her, he’s more than a little stunned to see her pouting with both arms crossed over her chest.  The expression on her face can only be described as petulant.  His angel can sulk.  _Huh…who knew?_ “The clothing I have is perfectly serviceable.  There is no need to procure more.  We should leave now before the woman returns…and go get pie.”  Castiel smiles and holds out a hand for him to take, head jerking towards the door enticingly.

Dean finally admitted to himself that Cas running around wearing his baggy sweatpants and vintage rock-band t-shirts was, while somehow erotic as hell, not completely acceptable.  So when Sam had gone to the library to do some research for their latest case, Dean decided to take Cas shopping.  They’re currently in a small clothing store (not a boutique dammit!) waiting for the saleslady to come back.  Well Dean is, Cas is still lingering in the doorway, refusing to move further.  He walks over to her and takes her hand, practically dragging her into the store.  She rolls her eyes, yet another human gesture Castiel has picked up in the weeks since becoming female.

He lifts a hand and taps the end of her nose, lips quirked, “You need clothes that fit, Cas.  If you’re going to stay girl-shaped for a while, then you need to dress the part.  Trust me, most girls like this.  Shopping is supposed to be fun, so stop acting like I’m torturing you.  Please?”  The angel makes a genuinely frustrated sound before nodding wearily.  She looks around the store, fingers still intertwined with Dean’s.

“Here we are…let’s get started, shall we?”  The petite woman is back, beckoning Castiel with a hand and when Cas makes no move at getting closer, she walks over with a smile.  She’s holding a tape measure and a small notepad, but from the look Cas is giving her, you’d think she was brandishing an Angel Blade.  She laughs under breath and whispers conspiratorially, “Trust me, I’ll try and make this as painless as possible.”

Castiel looks up in shock, taking a step closer to him and Dean assures her, “Cas, she’s joking.  It won’t hurt, I promise.  Just relax.”  The angel scowls at him but lifts her arms when the woman requests.  Cas’ eyes are locked on his while the woman works, tension still noticeable in the furrow of her brows.  Dean leans to press a light kiss on Cas’ lips and smiles when her anxiety visibly lessens.  He nods encouragingly and is rewarded with a tiny genuine smile.  _Hey, at least she’s trying._

The salesclerk is busy taking Cas’ measurements, humming under her breath.  The small page is very quickly covered in small, neat notations and before long, the woman is done and taking a seat.  She gestures to the chair next to her, indicating Castiel should sit.  “So tell me, what clothing are you most comfortable in?”

“I rather like what I’m wearing.”  Dean laughs at the snippy tone in Cas’ voice.  He holds up his hands in surrender and backs away when she scowls at him.  _Wrath of the Angels’ and all that._ Castiel cautiously perches on the indicated armchair and sighs, irritation evident.  Dean can’t get over just how different this vessel is, not that he’s complaining.  Not.  At.  All.

The woman smiles and reaches to pat Cas’ hand soothingly, “Well, we’ll see what I can do alright?  Now, what size bra do you wear?”  Castiel looks up from her where her hands are resting in her lap and stares at the woman expressionlessly.  The salesgirl, Chloe, clears her throat and continues gamely, “I realize you are not wearing one right now, but you are simply to…shapely to go without, girl.”

Dean holds his hands out, fingers roughly forming the shape a square, tilting them left and right and says (he thinks) helpfully, “I’d say she was a solid…34B?”

“Dean!”  The look of outrage on Cas’ face is entirely worth it and then spectacularly _not_ when both women purse their lips at him.  Dean holds up his hands and wanders off to peruse the store.   _Last time I try to help!_   He’s amazed to find that not all the items in the store are as _boutique-y_ as he’d assumed.  Quite a few of the t-shirts are perfectly normal and he’s pleased to find a display with band logo tees. 

It’s some thirty minutes later and Dean’s sitting on a small couch, flipping idly through a magazine when Castiel says his name.  He looks up and freezes.  Cas is standing there in a pale pink, eyelet sundress and she looks…wow.  Dean is staring and he doesn’t even realize it.  His mouth opens and closes comically, but no sound comes out.

Castiel’s smile falters and when she speaks, her voice is wholly disappointed, “You don’t like it.”  She picks at the material of the dress and sighs dejectedly, “I’ll change into something else.”

“No, Cas wait!”  Dean flings the magazine down and stands quickly, reaching to grab her elbow and stop her from turning away, “I like it.  You just look…” He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and finally admits, “You look very pretty.”

“Really?”  The amount of skepticism in that one word makes Dean grin.  “You mean that?  I look pretty?”  Fuck, she sounds so damn… _shy_.

“Yeah, you look pretty.  Now, is that all you’re getting?”

Castiel shakes her head and points back towards the dressing room, “I’ve sampled a multitude of clothing, but Chloe said I _needed_ to show you this dress.  Assured me that you’d like it.”  She ducks her head and asks nervously, “You really like it?”

Dean cups her chin and lifts her face to his, lips brushing over hers briefly, “I really like it.  Promise.”

Her face twists up in embarrassment and she takes his hand, leading him back towards the fitting room.  “I would much rather wear _your_ clothing, Dean.  Although, I must admit, this dress is quite comfortable.  Chloe has been most helpful.”

“Well, good.  So have you picked anything that you want, beside the dress?”  Dean looks around at the piles of clothing on the ottoman by the dressing room, trying to make sense of the mess.  Chloe is busy hanging some of the items back up onto a small rack nearby when they walk up.  She smiles at them, but makes no move to come closer, her lips in a tiny smirk.

“Yes, Dean.  Those are the items I wish to purchase.”

Castiel points to a rather large pile of clothing and Dean clears his throat nervously, “Uhhh…is there a smaller pile next to that mountain or maybe under it?”  He hears Chloe giggle and looks up to see Cas watching him, “because well, that’s a lot of stuff, Cas.”  When the angel just stands there staring at him in confusion, he reaches up to rub a hand on the back of his neck.  “It’s a lot as in I-Don’t-Have-That-Much-Money-To-Spend a lot.  Can you pick out your favorites?”

Castiel tilts her head and moves to the pile, making a couple of much smaller piles.  After a few minutes of shifting clothes from one pile to another, she whines in her throat. 

Dean comes up behind her, hands on her upper arms, chin resting on her head and asks, “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know what to pick, Dean!”

Chloe walks over and says with a smile, “Here, let me help.  You’ll want stuff you can get a lot of use from.  So jeans,” she’s talking under her breath as she picks two pairs out of the pile.  “Summer’s coming, so definitely some shorts.  How about these?”   Three pairs of shorts (denim, pale lilac and khaki) join the jeans after Castiel’s nod.  She pauses to cluck her tongue thoughtfully before grabbing a couple of tees from the pile.  “And you said you liked what you were wearing when you came in, so definitely the yoga pants and a pair of the cargo pants.”  Dean’s impressed, because she’s making a very workable pile, methodically sifting through the mountain of clothing.  She’s halfway through the pile and mutters, “I guess you can do without any skirts for now.”

Dean speaks up, reaching for one skirt in particular, “I…heh…we can get her one skirt.  Every girl needs a skirt right?”  He smiles charmingly, tugging at the skirt in Chloe’s hands.  The woman pulls on the skirt and shakes her head, making Dean tug a bit more forcefully on the skirt, “Give it.  I can afford at least _one_ skirt.”

She purses her lips in mock-contempt and then rolls her eyes, finally releasing the tiny plaid skirt.  A smirk curls her lip before she asks teasingly, “Shall I put some knee-high socks and Mary-Janes into the pile, _Sir_?”  Dean opens his mouth to answer and then wisely shuts it without saying a word, looking around guiltily.  Chloe turns back to the pile and tells Castiel, “The only thing left is panties and bras.  Since we’re going for comfort and durability, I’d say these.”  A handful of cotton panties and bras go into the pile, Chloe pointedly presenting a pair of plain white cotton ones to Dean before adding them to the rest.

He clears his throat, because the image they conjure is rather vivid.  Chloe chuckles under her breath, apparently knowing just where his thoughts veered.  Dean takes a breath and compliments her, “I’m impressed.  You whittled that pile with remarkable…”

“It’s my job.”  She shrugs and scoops up the small pile of clothes, calling over her shoulder as she heads to the register, “I take it you’re buying the dress and shoes she’s wearing now?”

He follows the salesclerk to the checkout counter, “Yea and um…” Dean gestures with his finger vaguely, “anything underneath.”

Chloe pauses in ringing up the items to say with a grin, “She’s not wearing anything underneath.” 

Dean doesn’t know what to say to that, but luckily Cas chooses that moment to walk up, “Dean, may I have one other item?”  Dean squeezes both eyes shut, a small groan escaping him because he already caught a glimpse of the total on the register.  Chloe finishes ringing up the last item and the final tally is…damn.  _Good thing this isn’t **my** money._   Castiel pats his forearm at the reaction and whispers, “I…it’s okay.  I do not need another t-shirt.  I’m sure the ones Chloe chose will be adequate.  I simply found this one humorous.  That’s all.”

He blows out a breath, cheeks puffing out with the effort.  Castiel has been very good at not asking for much in the few weeks she’s been female.  In fact, she’s been downright perfect, so he capitulates, “Okay, Cas.”  Dean reaches out to take the tee but Cas is already heading back to the discarded mountain of clothing.  “Cas!  I said yes.”

“It’s okay, Dean.”  She’s smiling as she comes back empty-handed, but it’s forced.  Her eyes are tight and the set of her shoulders is rigid, yet she still tries for encouraging with her next statement, “You have been more than generous.”

He reaches to cup her face and lifts her chin, “I said okay.  Now go get the t-shirt.  I want to see what my angel thought was humorous.  Come on, show me.”  Cas’ face flushes in mortification, but she goes to retrieve the item.  She stops a few feet away and holds the yellow t-shirt up over her chest.  Dean can’t help it; he throws his head back and laughs, because Castiel is holding up a shirt with the words ‘Love Me Some PIE’ emblazoned across the chest around a lattice-topped pie.

 

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

 

“Thank you for my new clothing, Dean.”  They’re sitting on the hood of the Impala while Cas eats from a small bucket of rainbow colored cotton candy.  Dean had taken her to a small carnival and just enjoyed watching her act 100% human.  He’d even gotten on a few of the rides with her.  He had not, however, puked behind the Tilt-A-Whirl…at all.  _Nope, didn’t happen._  

They’d walked up and down the small Main Street, just peering into windows and talking.  Castiel had seen a small boy eating cotton candy and expressed curiosity at the treat so Dean had bought her one.  When he’d returned from the street vendor, a guy was talking to Cas and Dean was staggered by the jealousy that unfurled in his belly at the sight of her laughing at what ever the guy was saying.

He’d walked right up to them and taken her hand possessively, lifting it to brush his lips over her knuckles.  She’d smiled and taken the bucket eagerly, waving good-bye at the guy as they walked back to the car.  After that, Dean had driven around aimlessly for a bit, until he’d finally pulled into this secluded park.  It’s just before sunset, light enough for the automatic streetlights to not flick on, but dark enough to obscure most of her features in shadow.

Castiel turns to smile at him, tongue darting out to lick her lips.  “You’re welcome.”  Dean watches the tip of her tongue trace her lips and clears his throat unnecessarily before looking away.  Maybe parking in a secluded area hadn’t been the smartest of ideas.  _Way to go, Winchester._   “I’m still getting used to not seeing you in that suit and trench coat.”

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”  He looks up and Castiel has put the cotton candy bucket aside and is staring at her obviously sticky fingers.  She tentatively slips the tip of her pinky into her mouth and sucks it clean.  Dean’s frozen in place, watching as she slowly eases it out between her lips.  Her brows lift in wonder and he watches as she carefully makes her way through each one.  Dean’s sure Cas doesn’t realize what she’s doing…until she lifts her gaze to his, her tongue laving around her index finger.  His voice is hoarse when he whispers, “Cas…um do you need to…uhh, I mean...just, maybe you….”

“Did _you_ want to lick my finger clean?”  Castiel extends her arm and rests the tip of her finger on his bottom lip, wriggling it mischievously.  She smiles at him and licks her lips, “Dean?  I can tell you liked watching that for some reason…I assumed it was because you wanted a taste.”  Cas tilts her head, “Was I wrong?”

Dean wrinkles his nose in disgust and shakes his head, “Yeah, no.  It wasn’t because I wanted a taste.  I hate cotton candy.”

“Then why?  I can tell you enjoyed it.  Your pupils dilated and your breathing pattern changed.  Am I wrong to assume tha-“

He can’t help what he does, really he can’t.  With her innocent questions, Cas has slowly been driving him insane and she probably doesn’t even know it.  All day, Dean’s had the saleslady’s words in his head.  _‘She’s not wearing anything underneath.’_ Over and over, it’s been repeating in his brain on an endless loop.  The entire time they walked through the small street carnival, Dean was imagining what Castiel would do if he just gave in and touched the expanse of bare skin on her shoulders.  So he finally gives in; he reaches to curl a hand on her neck and pulls her in closer, his lips parting to take that slender finger into his mouth.

Castiel gasps softly as his lips glide down her digit, mouth dropping open slightly.  She watches him suck the finger clean and Dean doesn’t miss when her knees press together.  He smiles around her finger and eases his lips up and off, licking the tip suggestively.  The angel blushes and leans closer, lips dangerously close to his.  “That was quite pleasant, Dean, but that wasn’t second base.”

Dean smirks, “No it wasn’t.”  He nearly falls off the hood when Castiel reaches up to work one of the straps off her shoulders.  Dean moves to stand in front of her, “Wait, Cas.  Stop.”  His fingers cover hers, “You can’t just strip in a public place.  You’ll get us arrested.”

“But, Dean…I wish to experience second base.  Please?” 

Her voice is so earnest and Dean feels his resolve crumble into pieces around him.  He tilts his head back and says to no one in particular, “I’m so going to Hell…Again.” 

She giggles, edging closer to the edge of the hood.  He feels her knees part, one foot hooking on the back of his thigh just before lips brush over the base of his neck.  Dean almost doesn’t hear when she whispers against his skin, “I’ll just have to retrieve you…Again.”

He laughs, licking his upper lip, “Yea?  You’ll fetch me from Hell again?  Just like that?”

“Mmhmm…you’re _mine_ , human.”  Dean looks down and watches her hand cover the scar on his shoulder.  He can feel the heat of her touch even through three layers of clothing.  Her fingers tighten on his upper arm, almost possessively and Dean loves it.  “Our souls are bound together for all eternity.  You bear my mark now, so I’d find you much quicker this time.”

Dean smiles and lifts her chin up with a finger, “Good to know.”  His lips cover hers in a soft kiss, eyes drifting shut at her tiny sigh.  Castiel’s free hand tugs the small hairs at the base of his skull.  He deepens the kiss, hands resting on her hips and he growls into her mouth when her other leg curls around his hip.  The fingers in his hair move down to grip the juncture of shoulder and neck, tugging him forward.  He lifts his head and smiles down salaciously, “Easy there, tiger.  Still in public.”

Castiel mewls, that’s the only way Dean can describe it, and pleads, “I want more.”  Her eyelids are lust-heavy, voice hoarse and she’s the picture of barely contained restraint.  She lies back onto the hood with an exasperated moan, “I need more.”  Dean leans over her and licks just above the bodice of her dress, tongue darting out to taste the pale skin.  Castiel rears up with a whimper, “Dean, please don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.  Honest.  I’ve wanted to do that since this morning.”  Cas bites her lip and lies back down, fingertips tracing over the neckline of her dress.  He snickers under his breath, “ _Now_ who’s teasing?”  She gives him wide eyes and he almost believes the act until she tilts her head coyly.  Dean tugs on Castiel’s hips, pulling her lower body flush against his.  She squeals briefly, lips pressing together in an excited smile.  He rocks his hips against her and _oh yeah_ , she’s definitely _not_ wearing anything under the dress.

“Oh, Dean…again.  Please.  It felt…quite pleasant.”  The statement is so _Cas_ and against his better judgment, he complies, hips bucking up into hers again.  Castiel moans, both legs tightening around his hips and Dean takes her mouth.  One of his hands shifts to wrap around her left thigh, fingernails scratching up towards her hip.  The grazing touch seems to intensify whatever Cas is feeling because she exhales happily, “More, please.”

“Greedy angel,” Dean admonishes good-naturedly, “always wanting more.”  His fingers delve underneath the hem of her dress, his eyes rolling into the back of his head at the satisfied purr she emits.  Castiel is watching him with hooded eyes, mouthing ‘more’ silently.  Dean’s hand settles on her hip, his thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive skin of her groin.  Cas’ legs tighten around him and her body bows up off the hood, hands bracing on the black metal, fingers splayed wide.

If Dean didn’t know better, he would assume she was coming, but she sits up and wraps both arms around his shoulders, panting against his lips, “Dean, please…it feels so…my body feels like it’s going to break apart.  Help me.  I don’t…” She doesn’t finish the thought, merely presses her forehead to his.  He closes his eyes, arms curling around her shaking body, holding her close. 

Dean’s voice is low, “Shhh, Cas…I know.”  His fingers slide up her bare arms and he placates her when she twists in his arms uncertainly, “I know what you need, baby.  Just...not here, okay.  We really shouldn’t do this…not out here.  Let’s head to the motel and I’ll give you what you need okay?”  He feels Castiel nod eagerly against his chest and when Dean opens his eyes again, they’re in the motel room.  His voice is breathless and rough, “Nifty.”

She’s on him in seconds, hands pushing off his jacket, tossing it across the room before tugging him closer by the edges of his navy button down.  He’d be lying if he said that her impatience isn’t a turn-on, because it totally is.  Castiel has stripped him down to his t-shirt and is in the process of tugging that off when the sound of a key in the door stops her.  Dean catches her when she would have stumbled in her haste to back away.

“Oh, hey guys.  Didn’t think you two were here.  The Impala’s not in the park-” Sam pauses in the doorway, looking back outside curiously, “-ing lot.”  Dean shuts his eyes and counts to ten.  That’s how long it takes Sam to process the scene he walked in on.  “Oh…right.  Uh, sorry…I’ll just.”  His brother points outside and takes a step backwards.

Castiel giggles and peers around Dean’s body, “It’s okay, Sam.  You can stay.”

“Uh, no.  It’s fine.  That’s not my scene…really.  I’ll…well…umm…uh…” Dean turns and yep, Sam’s blushing a rather interesting shade of pink.  The elder Winchester arches a brow and then rolls his eyes when Sam keeps talking, “I’ll just leave you two to it.  Have fun and well…be safe.”

“Sammy!”  Dean’s voice is irritated and rightly so, “Would you shut up?”  _Damn cock-blocking baby brother!_ He figures it’s probably a good thing his brother showed up _now,_ rather than five minutes later when they were both naked or while the two of them were busy fu-

Sam clears his throat and holds up the paper bags in his hand like some kind of peace offering, “I uh, I brought food.”  The smile that follows the declaration can only be described as vaguely constipated.  He asks with a nervous chuckle, “Cheeseburger?  Fries?”

Dean gives him a tight smile and lifts his left hand in a rude gesture.  Castiel is around him and rushing over, practically ripping the bag out of his brother’s hand to peek inside, “Is there pie?”

His brother scoffs and rolls his eyes, “You gave her your pie disease?  Seriously?  That’s got to be the weirdest STD known to man.”  He gets a self-righteous grin from Sam, who’s apparently over the whole ‘barging in on them’ embarrassment.

Dean glares and watches Castiel put the bag on the table, a small pout on her face.  Apparently, there’s a lack of pie.  “Cas…uh, about the Impala?”

She looks up and nods, disappearing in a flutter of wings.  Seconds later, Castiel is walking through the doorway, car keys in her hands, “Your baby is safe, Dean.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

“You’re welcome, Dean.”  Castiel wanders back to the table and shoves her hand into one of the bags.   She pulls out a couple of greasy fries, tilts her head back and then drops them into her open mouth.  Both brothers stare, open-mouthed and when she lifts her head, her cheeks are puffed out like a hamster’s.  She chews slowly, speaking around the mouthful of fried goodness, “What?”

Sam shakes his head and recovers first, “It’s just weird seeing you eat, Cas.  Especially like that.”  He waves a finger at her as if _that_ explains it.

“Like what?”  Castiel holds a hand up over her mouth and swallows, looking between each of the brothers, waiting for clarification.

Dean blurts out, “Like a guy.  Girls are neat and usually eat one fry at a time.  That’s if they eat fries at all.”  Cas’ brows press together and she looks for all the world like she’s about to cry so Dean moves forward and reassures her, “I’ve always thought neat and tidy girls were too much work, too high-maintenance.  So if you want to shove fries down your throat like a trucker, you go for it.  Don’t change for us.  Deal?”

Castiel tilts her head and squints an eye at him, disbelieving.  Sam laughs and reaches into the bag, pulling his salad container out.  Dean gives his brother a look and moves to sit down across from him, pulling the bag closer to look inside.  He turns back towards Cas and waves the bag at her temptingly, brows wiggling.  She inches closer and picks up one fry, daintily putting it in her mouth, chewing slowly.  Dean grabs a handful of fries and stuffs them into his mouth, causing Castiel to giggle.

Sam chokes on his laugh and mutters, “Attractive, Dean.”

“Shut up, Bunny Foo Foo.  You eat your little salad and hush.”  Dean pulls Castiel closer and puts their burgers and fries out on the table, “They’re just so goooood.  Right, Cas?”  The angel nods, putting another fry in her mouth, this time much in the same manner as the first couple, head tilted back.  Dean grins and praises with a wink, “That’s my girl.”  He misses Sam’s shocked look, but doesn’t, however, miss how Castiel’s eyes light up at his compliment.

 

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

 

Dean holds up a finger and whispers, “Shhh…you’ll wake up Sam.”

Castiel is giggling, her left hand covering her mouth to try and stem the sound.  Dean’s lying on his left side, head cupped in his upturned hand while he watches Cas.  She presses her lips together and clears her throat softly, looking too serious for her own good.  They’re facing each other on the bed, Castiel still in her pretty pink dress.  Dean leans in towards her again, lips covering hers gently.  The second his hand comes up to cup her face, Cas giggles again.

The hunter gives her a look and Castiel instantly sobers.  She mouths the word ‘sorry’ and inches forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips in apology.  Dean smirks and flicks his tongue over Cas’ bottom lip, enjoying the way her mouth drops open in silent shock.  He lifts his hand to crook a finger at her in a _‘come here’_ motion and the angel scoots closer excitedly.  Dean drags his thumb over the line of her jaw and Castiel closes her eyes, head tilting to the side to give him better access.

Ever since Sam’s return to the room, the pair has been struggling to keep their hands off each other.  Each time Dean had looked at Castiel, she’d been either licking her lips or chewing on the bottom one.  It’d been torture waiting for his brother to fall asleep.  True, they could have left the room and just forgone all semblance of decency, but for some unforeseen reason, Cas is reluctant for Sam to find out just how much she enjoys the more erotic human experiences.

The trio had quickly eaten dinner and Dean had wrongly assumed Sam would take a shower and then call it a night.  His brother had spent the next two hours working on his laptop.  Dean and Castiel had passed the time watching Dr. Sexy reruns with a bowl of popcorn between them.  Cas had enjoyed trying to toss kernels into Dean’s open mouth, clapping and lifting her hands up over her head each time she got one in.  Sam had muttered something about ‘silly kids’ under his breath but they’d ignored him.  Finally, around midnight, his brother had shut the laptop and started getting ready for bed.

It had taken approximately twenty minutes for Sam to start snoring and not long after, the two of them were necking on the couch like a couple of teenagers, mouths barely separating between kisses.  Castiel had crawled into Dean’s lap and unwittingly started grinding on him, her hips rolling faster the more aroused she got.  That’s why he’d initially suggested they move to the bed, to put some distance between her hips and his.  She’d nodded and zapped them both into the bed before he could even stand up.  And here they were…

Dean leans to press his lips to the angel’s jaw, following the path his thumb has taken.  Castiel moans, one delicate hand coming up to wrap around his forearm, her chest rising and falling rapidly.  His mouth finds the sensitive skin behind her ear and she giggles.  Dean snorts and whispers, “Why do you keep giggling, silly girl?”

She hisses, equally quiet, “I don’t know!  Every time you do something new, my vessel giggles.  I have the strangest sensation in my nether regions and and…I feel lightheaded and on the brink of nausea.”

Dean leans back and laughs quietly, stopping when Castiel gives him a smite-worthy look.  “Does your stomach feel like it’s rolling and churning?”  She nods and Dean leans in to whisper in her ear, “You’re nervous.  Here…lemme see.”  He takes her hand and presses two of her fingers to his forehead and nods when the angel’s nervousness passes to him.  “Yeah, you’re nervous.”

“I do not know why.  I trust you implicitly.  I know you would not hurt me and I’m ready to experience this.”  She looks so earnest, it’s hard for Dean to not just roll over her and take what _he’s_ so ready to experience.  He quickly stamps down on the thought before the angel senses it and just stares at her.  “Why am I nervous, Dean?”

He smiles, shrugging as best he can in his current position, “Nervousness doesn’t always make sense.  It just happens.  We all experience it.  It’s part of being a human.”  Castiel scowls and Dean can’t help but chuckle, “Hey, we don’t have to do anything, Cas.  I’m fine with just laying here with you.  Come here.”  He curls his free arm around her and tugs her flush against his chest.  She hums in pleasure, wriggling to get more comfortable, her head lowering to rest on his bicep.  “Comfortable?”

“Yes, very.  Thank you, Dean.”  Castiel is smiling up at him, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek.

“No problem, angel.”  He turns his head to press a kiss to the center of her palm.  Cas bites her bottom lip and blushes.  Dean readjusts himself on the bed and settles his head on the pillow, inches from her face.  “What?”

She looks around and then whispers shyly, “The nausea is gone.  May we continue?”

Dean nods and shifts to brush a kiss on her shoulder, the tip of his index finger reaching up to hook on the thin strap of her dress.  “If you want me to stop, just say so, okay?”  Cas whispers her assent and he eases the strap off her shoulder, lips following it off in a series of brief little kisses.  He watches the way her breathing catches and gently presses the angel onto her back.  She immediately tenses and Dean calms her with a soft kiss, “Relax.”  Castiel swallows hard and watches as he lowers his mouth to her collarbone, tongue darting out to lick at her pink lips.  Dean pauses, lips hovering over her skin, “More?”

Castiel’s voice is breathy and exasperated, “Oh, yes please.”

“So bossy.”  Dean snorts a laugh when she shoves at him, quickly amending, “Good thing I like bossy little angels.”  He feels her giggle silently and finally allows his lips to grace her clavicle, loving the way she arches up into the brief contact.  On a whim, he drags his bottom teeth over the bone and sucks in a harsh breath when she whimpers.  “Like that do you?”  The angel nods and reaches a hand up to fist in his hair, crushing her lips to his in a rather demanding kiss.

In the weeks following Castiel’s transformation, Dean’s been more than willing to grant her plenty of kissing practice, not that she’s needed much.  Cas has taken to it like a fish to water and Dean’s enjoyed every single minute of it.  Her innocence is endearing and what she lacks in skill she makes up for in enthusiasm.  It’s been exceptionally hard for Dean to keep from pushing for more.  Especially since his desire shows no sign of abating. 

“Dean, please!”  Castiel’s whisper is urgent and heartfelt.  “I need…” She swallows and licks her lips, “I don’t know what I need.  I just want….”

“Shhh, angel, I know.”  He’s pressed over her, forearms braced around her head and Dean doesn’t even remember moving.  That’s what she does to him.  Castiel makes him forget who he is, where he is and what he’s doing.   That’s absolutely dangerous, but he doesn’t care right now.  Later, maybe.  But now?  No.  Cas tugs on his hair and Dean hisses softly, “What was that for?”

“You’re not paying _attention_!”  Her voice is slightly whiny and he leans to kiss her again, tongue pressing into her mouth roughly, swallowing the moan that rips out of her.  Castiel’s fingers tug his t-shirt up over his head, baring his chest.  She pulls away from the kiss to mouth down the column of his neck.  Dean’s face twists when Cas sucks a small bruise to the base of his throat.  That’s another thing that he’s discovered: Castiel loves giving him hickeys, not that the hunter minds.

His voice is breathlessly hoarse, moaning into the pillow when she bites him gently, teeth worrying the flesh between her teeth.  “Cas…oh, God!”

She pulls back to squint at him, “Do not blaspheme, please.”  Dean can’t help it, he laughs, the sound quickly muffled by a slender hand reaching up to cover his mouth.  He raises his eyebrows and playfully licks the palm of Castiel’s hand.  She removes her hand with a tiny ‘eep’ of surprise.  “Are you _not_ the one that insisted we must not make too much noise, lest we wake Sam?”

Dean nods and silences her with another kiss, one hand moving to rest at her waist, fingers gently squeezing.  She squirms beneath him and he smiles on her lips, allowing his hand to inch upwards slowly.  Castiel freezes when his hand cups over her ribcage and Dean stops, lifting his head to ask, “You want me to stop?”  She shakes her head, but looks absolutely unsure of herself.  He leans to kiss the corner of her mouth and “Cas, you look terrified.”

“I’m not.  Just…nauseated again.”

“I inspires barfy feelings in you.  Gee, thanks, Castiel.”  He grunts when she twists one if his nipples harshly, “Sweet, Jesus, woman!”

 _“DEAN!"_ The warning is screamed in his mind and Dean pulls back with a wince, eyes blinking to clear the stars in his vision.  _“I asked you not to blaspheme!”_

He quickly apologizes, eyes tightly shut, not even realizing that he doesn’t speak aloud, _“Ok, ok, ok.  Sorry, just please don’t ever do that again.”_

Castiel mentally coos at him, the sensation significantly weaker this time.  Hands rub over his temples consolingly, _“Oh, poor baby…I’m sorry.  Forgive me?”_

“Mmm…yeah.”  He nods, smiling when she offers him a mental image of them splayed out on the Impala’s hood earlier.  “Liked that?”  Castiel grins, sending him the memory of arching up off the hood and Dean was right, she was almost to the brink of orgasm.  His smile is heated and he teases, “Dirty girl…you almost came without even getting to second base.”

Cas pushes against his chest, knee lifting up to press between his legs.  Dean’s mouth drops open, the flood of heat to his privates almost too much.  He’s inadvertently moving against the pressure, hips shifting back and forth when she speaks in a mental caress, _“Don’t taunt me, hunter.”_

Dean smirks and promises, _“Oh, I’m not taunting you, precious…I love dirty girls.  Especially dirty girls who come more that once and from just how receptive you are, I’m guessing you’re one of those.  Shall I test my theory.”_

Castiel gives him a smirk of her own and mouths, ‘Oh, God, yes.’

His eyes widen at her silent blasphemy and he rewards her with a thumb raking over the underside of her breast.  She moves under him and her eyes briefly flash blue-white.  He repeats the movement and Castiel’s eyes flare again.  Dean leans to croon in her ear, lips brushing over the shell of her ear, “Your eyes go angel-y when I do that.  I wonder if you’ll blind me when you come, pretty girl.  Let’s find out shall we?”

Dean shifts his hand and covers the vessel’s breast with the palm of his hand, mouth covering hers to swallow her moan.  Cas is shivering violently, tongue dueling with his in an approximation of a mating dance, both hands in his hair.  She’s mentally chanting, _“More, more, more,”_ and Dean pauses to reach behind her back, fingers lowering the zipper of the dress.  Castiel mewls when the cotton shifts over her undoubtedly sensitive nipples.

He pushes up onto his knees, straddling her thighs and guides first one arm through its strap, then the other.  Dean lets his fingers ghost over her chest, the uppermost edge of the dress perilously close to giving him an unobstructed view of breasts he’s been dying to see outside of a bra.  Cas is watching him curiously, her cheeks flushed.  She reaches up and runs her hands up his bare chest, a thumb flicking inquisitively over his nipple.  Dean ducks his head, chin dropping to his chest, mouth open in a silent moan.  One of his eyebrows lifts, both eyes rolling back into his head.  Castiel grants him the view through her eyes, and he’s floored.  She’s…fascinated with his reaction; how his chest is heaving at that simple touch and how his face twists when she repeats the small caress over his other nipple. 

“Cas…” She’s going to be the death of him, he’s going to come like a horny schoolboy -right in his jeans- all before seeing her topless.

 _“Shhhh, Dean…open your eyes.”_ Dean drags his eyelids open and groans when Castiel’s hands tug the dress that last little bit lower.  _“Touch me, please.  I need it.  I need to feel your hands on me, Dean.”_

How can he deny her?  His hand moves from where it’s resting over her sternum to cover that swell of flesh and he’s rewarded with another blue-white flash of light from her eyes.  Dean eases down over her, his thumb skimming back and forth over the taut little peak of her breast.  He lowers his mouth to her ear, congratulating her, “Welcome to second base, beautiful.”

 _“Sweet Heavens!  It feels…”_ The thought is blaring, the sensations passing over to him and Dean sucks in a breath when her hand covers the brand on his shoulder.  _“Mine.”_ The single word is fiercely possessive and he’s astonished when Castiel mentally growls at the memory of him and Anna in the backseat of the Impala.  He’s never known that Cas watched them having sex and in that moment, he realizes just how wounded the angel felt then and later in the barn when Anna kissed him.  Dean kisses the curve of her ear and shudders at the heartbreaking pain broadcasted at the memory of Anna’s hand covering Castiel’s handprint on his skin.

Dean nuzzles her face and reassures her silently, “ _Yours, Castiel.  Always.  For as long as you want me.”_ He lifts his head to gaze down at her and is rendered speechless, because her eyes are filled with tears.  _“Oh, Cas…don’t cry, angel.  I didn’t mean to make you cry.”_

The answering smile is watery and the kiss is overwhelming, _“Happy tears, hunter.”_ It’s as if the seraph is pouring her grace into him and in a way, Dean supposes she is.  He feels warmth pass between them and he shuts his eyes at the blinding light emanating from beneath her skin.  The vessel bucks up into him and with a high pitched call, she climaxes and disappears, leaving Dean to fall face-first into the mattress in surprise.

In the bed next to his, Sam sits up, gun in his hand, “Dude, what the fuck was that?”

Dean snarls into the pillow and pushes up, flipping to sit on the edge of the bed, grossly unsatisfied and annoyed.  He palms his face, both forearms across his knees, muttering, “Don’t ask.”

“Did you…hear…wait, was that _Cas_?!”  Dean nods and his brother gawks at him.  “Dude, was that…no way.  Was that the sound of…an angel…coming?!”  He flops backwards onto his bed and flips Sam the bird, his head throbbing from all the mental volleying back and forth with Castiel.  Dean hears the gun being set on the nightstand and then a muffled, “Oh God, you guys were having sex in the same room I was sleeping in?!”

His brother sounds so offended and disgusted that Dean can’t help but mock, “We didn’t have sex, Sammy!  Jesus H. Christ, you’re such a baby.  Women can come from more than just sex, bitch.”

“Oh my God, Dean!  Shut up!!”  Sam lobs a pillow at him and Dean can’t help but laugh, hands covering his face.  “You’re a freakin’ menace you know that?  Corrupting an Angel of The Lord…wait, scratch that, corrupting TWO!  First Anna, now Cas.”

Dean grimaces and tosses the pillow back at his brother, “ _Sam-my!_   Don’t bring that up, please.  Just…trust me.”  Sam sits up and rubs his face, quirking a brow at him.  Dean is saved from further comment by the rustle of wings.  He sits up, face expectant and quickly scowls at the sight of Gabriel, flopping onto his back again, arms up over his face.

“Hey, Dean-o…try not to look so happy to see me next time, will ya?  Hey listen,” the archangel sits down at the foot of the bed and smirks, “whatever you did to Cassie…it beamed her to Jakarta.”  Dean lowers his arms and looks at Gabriel in disbelief.  “I’m guessing it was an unintentional transport…seeing as there aren’t any angel banishing sigils and you’re…well you’re half dressed.”  The angel nods at his confusion and tosses him a small amulet.  “Next time you’re playing footsie, put that around Castiel’s neck.  It’ll keep her from disappearing on you.”

Dean catches the small silver charm and turns it over in the palm of his hand.  There are small Enochian symbols etched into both sides of it and when he looks up to ask Gabriel what they mean, the archangel disappears with a snap of his fingers.  Castiel reappears in his place, a baffled look on her face, hands wrapped around her upper arms.

“Cas!”  He sits up and rushes over to her, the medallion momentarily forgotten.  His hands cupping her face, “Are you okay?  I didn’t hurt you did I?”  Dean presses his lips together at the sound of Sam’s snicker.

“I’m fine, Dean.  Just…” she peers around him towards Sam and moves her fingers sideways in a slapping motion.  His brother instantly falls over in his bed, fast asleep.  Dean feels his jaw drop in awe.  “I’m fine, Dean.  The climax just took me by surprise.  I was lead to believe that copulation is what delivers the intense…”

Castiel gestures grandly with her hands and he offers helpfully, “finish?”  She nods and Dean chuckles, “No.  It’s not just the ‘copulation’ as you so eloquently put it.  Orgasms are different for every single person.  What does it for one person doesn’t necessarily work for someone else.  Everyone experiences pleasure differently.  That’s what makes it so fun, finding a partner’s hot spots and turn ons.  Take me for example.  I already told you I’m a sucker for lip biting.”

At his statement, Cas drags her teeth over her bottom lip suggestively, tongue laving over it immediately afterwards.  “Like that?”

Dean clears his throat and nods, “Yeah, like that.”  He takes a step closer and she tilts her head back to look up at him, “Pretty much anything to do with that cute little mouth of yours.”  Cas giggles and he drags the pad of his thumb over her cheek, “and that fucking giggle is cute as fuck.”

“I’ve noticed you get more…colorful the more aroused you get, Dean.”  He cocks his head and frowns, relaxing his face when she rubs a fingertip between his brows, “You use the word ‘fuck’ and several other obscenities the more…stimulated your body gets.”

He shrugs and blushes, head ducking, “Uh, yeah…I know you don’t like it, but I lose all capability to think around you when I’m turned on.  The more I teach you, the worse it gets.”

“You’re a good teacher.” 

“Am I now?” 

She nods, pushing onto her tiptoes to purr on his lips, “You also like it when I…” Dean staggers back when Castiel dips her head to lick his nipple, her teeth scraping fleetingly.  When she speaks again it’s with her lips pressed over his heart, “The licking and biting is understandable, but I was unaware that men’s nipples were such a, what’s the term?”

“Erogenous zone.”  Dean’s voice is wrecked and unbelievably chockfull of desire.  He can’t believe he admits it but he does, “Yeah, my nipples are an erogenous zone…big time.”

The angel grins and cheekily teases, “Good to know.”  He chuckles and nods when she asks, “So I got to _your_ second base too?”  The crinkle of her nose is adorable and Dean stoops to pick her up, cradling her against his chest.  She nuzzles his bare chest with her cheek, “My big, strong hunter.”

Dean sets her on his bed and stretches out above her, his weight supported on his forearms, “Yes, yours.  No one else’s.”  Her fingers are roaming over his chest, inquisitive and exploratory.  The inspection goes on for a few minutes and he finally wonders aloud, “Having fun, pretty girl?”

“Mmm yes, Dean.  Your shape is satisfactorily made, I’m quite fond of it.”

He raises a brow and laughs, “I’m glad you think so.  I’m quite fond of it myself, thank you very much.”  She impishly punches him in the stomach and then flips him onto his back, knocking the breath out of his lungs.  “Sweet Je-iminy Cricket,” Dean corrects himself mid-sentence, not acknowledging the purse of Castiel’s lips when she narrows her gaze down at him in response to his near-slip.  “I forget just how _not human_ you are sometimes.”

Castiel is straddling his thighs, hands braced on his chest, lips twisted up, “Good thing or bad thing?”

“Li’l of both, I’d imagine.”  He lifts a finger and crooks it at her, “Hey, c’mere a second.  I have a secret to tell you.”  Dean eyes her up and down, eyebrows wiggling when she hesitates, “Don’t you trust me?”

 _“I do.”_ The thought is short-lived but the feeling lingers long after it’s gone.

Brows tighten at the flare of pain in his temples, “Why do you do that?  It gives me a headache, Cas.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.  It’s how angels communicate with those they cherish…it’s exceptionally intimate.  I was not aware that my thoughts caused you discomfort.  I apologize, it will never happen again.”  She smiles while she says it but Dean catches the flicker of disappointment before she leans to brush her lips over his temple, the pain quickly dissipating.  “Better?”

“Mmm,” he nods, “Yes, thank you.”  Dean feels lightheaded but relaxed, “I never said you couldn’t do it again, Cas.  I just have to get used to it.”  He gathers her down to his chest, speaking into her hair, “If it’s important to you and something you wish to share with me, I’ll keep practicing.  Understood?”

Castiel snuggles into him and he can feel her smile on his bare skin, _“Yes, Dean.”_ This time the thought is nowhere near as…loud…as the previous times.  It’s as if Cas has dialed down the volume on her thoughts.  He cups the back of her head with one hand, his other arm curling around her waist. 

They lie together like that for who knows how long before Dean finally drifts off to sleep.  His arms slacken around the angel’s body and she snuffles sadly, a silent laugh shaking her body when he murmurs in his sleep, “Shh, I’m ri’ here, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My inspiration for Castiel's dress came from [THIS](http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/rhode-eyelet-dress?utm_medium=cpc&utm_source=google&utm_campaign=PLA_Womens-Clothing%7CDress&utm_content=43244)


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